by Tiana Smith
I wasn’t sure I’d ever figure him out. And I wasn’t sure whether that was something I should even want in the first place.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dear 15511,
I am so sorry. I mean that. If I could say it a thousand times, I would.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I think you might get the idea and my hand is getting a cramp. I mean it, though. I really wanted to be there.
Something happened, and I wish I could tell you what. I wish I could explain everything so you wouldn’t think I’m a bad person. Just know I wouldn’t do anything to purposefully hurt you, and I still think only good things about you. None of that has changed. Can you forgive me? I know it’s a lot to ask.
15211
P.S. I can share my AP Government notes with you. If you want.
He was lucky I’d just gotten a good score on my test, otherwise I might have not been in the best mood. But for the first time, with Grayson’s help, I’d actually pulled off a miracle, so there wasn’t much that could bring me down.
In a way, I had 15211 to thank for my good test result. Because he’d ghosted me, I’d gotten help from Grayson, and that certainly would not have happened without a little push. So I couldn’t be mad now.
If anything, I was confused. He said something had happened, but what?
With an aggravated sigh, I folded the letter and put it in my bag before heading up to the speech and debate room. The state tournament was a little over a month away, and there was still so much we had to plan.
Grayson was waiting for me at the door.
“So?” he asked. “How’d you do on the test?”
We’d spent all of the bus ride home memorizing things from the notecards, so it was no wonder he was curious. He’d helped me make a story out of the terms and civil cases, weaving them together in a way that made sense to my brain. I could memorize stories. That’s what I was good at.
I held the paper out in front of me for his inspection. “Solid B,” I said with a smile. “So we’re getting there.”
He held up his hand for a high five, which I gave.
“We can study again tomorrow if you’re not sick of me yet. I can give you a ride after practice.” He said the last part hesitantly, perhaps remembering all the times in the past I’d been so prickly about his offer.
I was supposed to hang out with Naomi. But I doubted she’d mind getting more Dax time instead. She’d probably give me an earful for hanging on to Grayson when she was rooting for 15211, but right now I was more inclined to ask for forgiveness than permission.
“Sure,” I said quickly. Maybe too quickly. I didn’t want to sound too eager. But the word was out now and I couldn’t take it back. His returning smile made it worth it.
“Okay,” he said, walking into the speech and debate room. “Good. So we have all the food figured out for the state meet that we’re hosting, but we still need to follow up with them just in case. Plus, we need to make sure we have enough volunteers for judging. Coach Bates has the sign-ups on her computer, and we need to go through and make sure there will be enough when we factor in that a few will probably cancel last minute or forget to show up.”
It was funny. Months ago, I’d thought co-captaining with Grayson would be the Worst Thing Ever. But it was nice to share the responsibilities with someone who actually followed through on whatever he promised. He was dependable, and I couldn’t help but trust him in that respect. Could I trust him to not do something horrible to win the state tournament? I still had the walls around my heart, but Grayson kept chipping away at them, despite my best intentions.
“If you’ll go over the volunteer lists, I’ll call and reconfirm the food sponsors,” Grayson offered. “Even though you’re my competition, I don’t want to actually kill you off, and I know how much you hate phone calls.”
It was true. But I was still surprised he’d be willing to take that responsibility for himself.
“It’s a deal,” I said, holding out my hand for him to shake. I held on a little longer than was necessary, hoping Grayson wouldn’t notice, before heading to the desk in the back where Coach Bates sat at her computer. Grayson pulled out his phone and left the room, probably so he could make the calls where it wasn’t quite as loud.
Coach Bates saw me coming and pulled out a chair for me to sit beside her.
“Look at these numbers,” she said, turning the computer screen to face me.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, so I made a “hmmm” sound in hopes that I looked knowledgeable. She huffed.
“Quinn, these are your speech scores. If you keep performing this well, then that state championship is yours.”
My chest squeezed, and I scooted closer to the computer screen.
“Just don’t let anything distract you, you hear me?” Coach raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly toward the door, where Grayson had left only moments before. “This is a competition, Quinn. Sometimes it’s not nice. Yes, I want you to be friendly with your teammates, but not too friendly, okay? I still remember what happened at the Arizona tournament.”
I wanted to say, “You mean the tournament that I won?” but I held my tongue and nodded instead. Coach sighed.
“I know you. And I know you mean well. But I also know how distracted you get when you have too much on your plate, and I want to make sure you put your best foot forward at the state tournament. Not to mention the whole ‘save the whales’ speech you did. I don’t know what kind of thing you had going on with Grayson in order for him to get you to sabotage your odds like that, but it wasn’t a good choice for a competition, and you know that. He doesn’t have your best interests at heart; he has his. Just like you should have yours.” Coach fixed me with a solid stare.
“Now isn’t the time for boys. Besides, teachers hear gossip too, and while I’m not going to comment on any of it, let’s just say I think you’d be smart to keep your head in the game. Capiche?”
She’d probably meant for this little pep talk to be encouraging, but it was more like a pinprick to a balloon. The only thing I felt was deflated.
She was right. I remembered that first tournament, and how much I’d bombed. I couldn’t afford to let that happen again. Not when I was this close. I’d fought so hard to get those scores on her screen. If Grayson wasn’t playing fair, then making me lose at state would be his final play. I needed to win now more than ever.
“Capiche,” I repeated. She smiled.
“Good girl. Now, here’s where the volunteers are listed.” She clicked on something and the list popped up on the screen. “Have at it.”
I watched her walk away and let out a breath. Nothing was ever easy, it seemed.
I made my way through the list of volunteers, checking it against the time slots available and who said they could come when. When that was over, I walked around the room to see if anyone at practice needed my help. They didn’t. We were far enough into the season now that people pretty much knew what they were doing.
I sat at the desk while I waited for Grayson to come back from making phone calls. Coach’s words were on an endless loop in my mind. I really did need to focus and stop worrying so much about boys. All boys.
I pulled out a paper to write 15211 back. I’d keep it simple.
Dear 15211,
You’re forgiven.
Honestly, maybe it’s for the best that we didn’t meet. I think we should probably keep it that way. I like things the way they are.
For now.
15511
P.S. I got a tutor. So your offer is appreciated, but I’ll take it from
here.
* * *
MY PHONE DINGED later that night, and I’d never known one little email could hold that much power over me until I saw the notification flash across my screen.
I forgot all about my computer and the homepage banner I was updating for my mom’s photography business. I threw my phone down, pushing my chair away from my desk. I didn’t even realize I’d yelled until my mom barged through my door with a frying pan, à la Rapunzel in Tangled.
“What? What is it?” She looked panicked, her eyes searching the room like she expected to find an intruder hiding behind my curtains.
I pointed to my phone. “I just got an email. From Boise State University.”
Her expression changed instantly and she brought the frying pan in front of her, clasping the handle with both hands like a prayer. “What did it say?”
I swallowed.
“I didn’t open it.”
Opening it would have consequences. It would make their decision—whatever it was—real.
My mom sat on the edge of my bed, setting the frying pan aside and tucking her fingers under her legs.
“Well?” She motioned toward my phone with her chin. “What are you waiting for?”
I held my phone out to her.
“You read it. I can’t.”
She shook her head. “This is your moment. You can’t let your mom steal your thunder.”
My outstretched hand shook as I brought it back to my chest. “What if it’s a no?”
She pursed her lips, which didn’t make me feel any better. “You’ll only know if you open it.”
My heart hammered in my rib cage as I unlocked my phone and opened my email. My finger hovered over the unopened message uncertainly for a moment before finally clicking down.
“Congrats, Quinn,” I read aloud. “I am so excited to tell you that you’ve been admitted to Boise State University—”
My mom started screaming and suffocated me in a hug before I could utter another word.
“Mom, I still need to breathe,” I gasped into her hair.
“You’re in! You’re in!” She jumped up and down, refusing to let go, so I was forced to bob along in my chair or risk losing my head. I wasn’t sure whether I was laughing or crying, but my mom was making enough noise for the both of us.
She released me and put her hands on my shoulders. “How does it feel?”
I looked back down at my phone, my eye catching the logo at the top of the email in a way that made everything seem more real. I scanned it again. “It doesn’t say anything about financial aid.”
She looked at my phone and pointed to the orange button at the bottom of the email. “See, it says ‘Next Steps’ and I’m sure that will have the information you need. Whatever it is, we’ll make it work. But for now, we celebrate!”
I stroked the edge of my phone, the lines of it starting to blur in my vision. It was the good news I needed to hear. With my love life in shambles, the state speech competition looming, and things with Carter being more awkward than a bad American Idol contestant, this was a bright spot for sure.
“I can’t believe I got in.” I smiled up at my mom and she squeezed my shoulder.
“How could you not? You’re the most talented kid I know.”
“You have to say that; you’re my mom.”
“Have I mentioned lately that you’re my favorite child?”
I shook my head and laughed. “I’m your only child.”
She shrugged, like she always did. She brushed my hair back with her hand and leaned down to kiss my forehead.
“It’s still true. And it always will be. Now”—she stood up—“let’s go eat pie.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Considering that Carter had organized his cooking party to be on Valentine’s Day, having Grayson pick me up made it feel very much like a date, which it wasn’t. I had to keep reminding myself of that or I’d run away with the idea. As for why Carter had put it on Valentine’s Day, well, I had my thoughts about that, and I didn’t like them.
Grayson and I walked to his car and I spied a covered dish sitting on the front seat when I opened the door.
“Why are you bringing something?” I asked. “The whole point is that he’s supposed to cook for us.”
My mom waved from the doorway, and I smiled back. She was all for this being a date, as she’d mentioned to me this morning. Several times.
I placed Grayson’s dish in my lap so I could sit down and buckle my seat belt. It was covered in foil, so I couldn’t see its contents, but I was dying of curiosity.
“Because it’s polite to bring something,” Grayson said, settling into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. “And if he’s just learning how to cook, I want to make sure there’s at least one edible thing there.”
I slapped his arm and he grinned. I wanted to reach out and hold his hand—an impulse I’d been fighting way too much lately during all our study sessions or at speech meets—and I was glad we wouldn’t be the only ones at this event tonight. I needed buffers. Naomi and Dax were coming for a bit before they went and did some separate Valentine’s Day plans, and Carter had invited a few other friends as well.
I still had Coach’s warning firm in my mind. Sometimes it was slippery, was all. But the fact that Coach had seconded Carter’s warning, well, that was troubling. I knew what rumors she was talking about. They were the same ones I’d known about all along. Was it too much to hope that maybe I was the exception to Grayson’s thirst for winning?
I gave Grayson directions to Carter’s house and tried not to worry about what might be awaiting us there. Was I being rude for not bringing a side dish? Would Carter make some kind of grand romantic gesture and expect me to finally fall in love with him once and for all? Things had almost been normal between us, and I didn’t want to fall backward.
By the time we pulled into Carter’s driveway, I’d managed to think myself into a full-on panic. Dax’s truck was already there, but I still hesitated in getting out of the car. Grayson took his dish from my hands and we made our way up the front steps. Naomi yanked open the door before we’d even knocked.
“About time,” she said. “I’ve been here for a whole minute and a half already.”
“So sorry to keep you waiting.” Grayson grinned. “That must have been torture.”
I liked that Naomi got along with Grayson. It wasn’t like we’d ever become a couple, but as long as we were trying this whole “friends” thing out, it was nice that he got along with my best one. True, he and Carter butted heads sometimes, but that was bound to happen with someone like Carter. Carter was so brash he often polarized people, but usually we evened each other out. I could get him to scale things back, and he got me to think big. It’d been that way as long as I could remember.
“Ooh, what’d you bring?” Naomi reached out and took the dish from Grayson, peeking under the tinfoil as she turned around to walk back inside. We followed, taking our shoes off in the front entryway.
“They’re mini quiche,” Grayson said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. Maybe he ate them all the time. The closest I got to mini quiche on a regular basis was Hot Pockets.
“Fancy,” I said, following after Naomi.
“Not really,” he said, joining us. “It’s mostly egg, and I used store-bought pie crusts.”
“You made them yourself?” I stopped and turned to face him.
One half of Grayson’s mouth quirked up in a smile as he brushed past me toward the kitchen. He turned and walked backward, maintaining eye contact. “I’m a man of many talents.” He laughed and turned back around. I followed silently.
“You cook too, Grayson?” Naomi clapped her hands. “You know what this means. A cook-off!”
We’d made it to the kitchen, where Carter was pulling something out of the oven. He straightened quickly, mischief written all over his face. He never did back down from any kind of bet.
“A cook-off?” He put down the tray and the oven mitts he�
��d been wearing.
Grayson set his dish on the counter and held up his hands. “No worries, man. I only brought the one thing to satisfy my mom’s etiquette rules. I’m not planning on stealing your thunder today.”
Carter cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe you’re scared I’d win.”
Grayson folded his arms across his chest. “Is that a challenge?”
Naomi squealed and started rooting through one of the kitchen drawers for something. She came back up with an extra apron, which she started tying around Grayson’s waist until he swatted her hands away and took over.
It was an endearing look. Grayson, with a frilly blue apron, rolling his sleeves and pushing up his glasses like this meant war.
Dax was over in the corner with a few other people I recognized from school, and he looked up to see what the fuss was about. They all went back to their conversation a beat later.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Carter said. “I’ll need two desserts for tonight. We can each do one. Quinn will be the judge. I trust her to be impartial since she’s friends with both of us.”
This was so not fair. I opened my mouth to say so, but Grayson spoke over me.
“Deal.”
I swallowed. This was clearly a no-win situation for me. No matter who I picked as the winner, I would come out the loser.
Naomi came to my side and navigated me to sit at one of the counter barstools. I did so rigidly. She sat on the stool next to me and continued to chat while Grayson and Carter picked out their ingredients. I could barely pay her any attention.
“How’re things going with your mystery pen pal?” Grayson asked while cracking eggs into a bowl. I widened my eyes and motioned for him to keep quiet, but it was too late.
“Mystery pen pal?” Carter asked. “You haven’t told me anything about a mystery pen pal.” His stirring slowed as he put chocolate chips into his bowl.
Grayson looked shocked, then pleased. “You didn’t tell Carter?” he asked. His smile was so big it could have split his face in two. He made a zipper motion across his lips, sealing the secret in. Fat lot of good that would do now.
